


Pixie Dust

by ThoseFiveChicks



Category: Maggot Boy
Genre: A Normal Tag, Also The Title's Stupid, Established boyfriends, Fairy AU, I Guess This Counts As Potentially Traumatizing A Small Child?, M/M, Oh look, There Are Flipping Fairies, Yes you read that right, shoosh, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1192905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoseFiveChicks/pseuds/ThoseFiveChicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The original title for this was 'Fairy Chavey.' That ought to about sum it up.<br/>Davey is the world's worst fairy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pixie Dust

**Author's Note:**

> So. . . yeah. This, plus In Sickness And Health, is really just my way of apologizing for House Of Cards. Have some fluff, children. Have all of the fluff.

Davey wasn’t exactly the world’s best fairy.

When people thought of fairies, the first thing to come to mind was a kind, sweet little thing with wings like colored cellophane and a dainty dress made of leaves or flower petals. Male fairies, for all that they even managed to show up in people’s imaginations, were pretty much the same, excepting that you’d edit the dress into neat little trousers or something. Probably chuck in a jaunty cap with a feather in it, too.

You certainly didn’t picture a fairy like Davey, with his perpetual bedhead and near-constant amount of grime– dirt, blood, take your pick– worked into his clothes. They were decidedly not made of plant material, and instead were a pair of jeans and a faded red hoodie that had been adapted from dolls clothes someone had left lying around a playground. His wings were by no means ‘jewel-like,’ or any other form of shiny prettiness, and were instead earth-toned and functional. Instead of being see-through, they were scaled and solid, like a moth’s, with a pattern on them much like the false pair of eyes you’d see on butterflies.

You also wouldn’t expect his foul mouth.

“Goddamnit, Chainey, this fucking sucks. If we have to crash in some three-year-old’s fairy house tonight I swear to God I’m gonna lose it.”

“You did want to travel, Davey,” his boyfriend reminded him gently, but even he didn’t seem to happy with their current predicament.

Chainey was much more what one would picture as ‘the norm’– his wings were a clear, translucent blue, and puberty had not only manifested itself by making him nearly half an inch taller than Davey (stupid puberty) it had also caused shoots of blue and white to pop out through Chainey’s dark hair. On a human, it wouldn’t have looked anywhere near natural, but on Chainey. . .

. . .mmm.

“Yeah, I did, I wanted to get out from under Lazaro’s stupid rule and get out into some free forest for once. What I didn’t want was to get stranded halfway to Parker’s because somebody fell asleep.”

Chainey flushed a deep shade of blue and glanced away, focusing on climbing over a nearly knee-height twig. Davey didn’t stop, though, just kept right on at it.

“And then– then– it starts to fucking rain. And now we’re stuck walking because we all know how goddamn useless wet wings are. And it’s getting dark. So, to recap, this fucking sucks.”

Chainey sighed. Davey glanced over at his boyfriend, noting with interest that the tips of his pointy ears were dusted with blue. He winced a bit internally. It was cute when Chainey blushed like that, but it was also a clue-in that maybe Davey had been a decent bit meaner than he should have been. It wasn’t really Chainey’s fault, after all, he couldn’t help the weird sleeping thing.

Chainey glanced up, wiping a massive drop of water out of his eyes, and Davey followed his gaze to what looked like a. . .

Oh hell no.

“Don’t say it,” Davey said. Chainey glanced at him, then back at the fairy house.

“Davey–”

“Don’t say it.”

“It’ll get us out of the rain, Davey.”

Davey groaned. “You just had to say it, didn’t you?”

There was nothing he could think of that could possibly be more humiliating than crashing in a four-year-old’s so-called fairy house for the night. He wouldn’t normally even consider it, but he was tired, and Chainey was always tired, and they did need to get out of the rain. . .

“. . .if you tell anyone, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Yes, Davey.”

“I mean it! Nobody is to know! Nobody! Understood?”

“Yes, Davey.” Chainey glanced away from him, and if Davey didn’t know better he’d say he was hiding a smile. But nobody would dare to smile in the face of his anger, right?

“Hmph.”

The fairy house was leaned against the base of a tree, three walls made of leaning bark and a roof of more of the same. It looked like there had once been flowers perched along the edges of the building, but they’d long since wilted and dried against the wood. There was a path of broken seashells leading up to what amounted to a door, and Davey rolled his eyes. These people always had to persist in throwing in those stupid little touches, didn’t they? Never mind that the ocean was miles and miles away, and the shells didn’t exactly fit into the forest. Would you bring an oak tree to the beach with you? He thought not.

Inside it was drier, but smelled like damp moss– what was it with these people and blanketing the floor with the stuff? It was like they thought fairies had no other means of carpeting, like, say, carpet.

Whatever. It was soft, at least, softer than the ground outside, and whoever had built this thing had given furniture a shot as well. It all sucked, truthfully, because humans were fucking gigantic and had no idea how to work with materials small enough, but it was. . . okay. Passable. A seashell ‘bathtub’ (like anyone would fucking fit in there), a couple of attempted chairs that wouldn’t hold up to any weight, and a milkweed-pod ‘bed’ with what most humans would consider an ‘unorthadox’ item– a fuzzy, warm-looking blanket, presumably from a dollhouse.

Hello.

Davey made short work of ditching the milkweed pod– again with the size thing. The whole house was just slightly too big, while the furniture was all just slightly too small. But the blanket was an awesome find, and Davey gave no hesitation in tackling his boyfriend down under it.

“Davey!” Chainey shrieked, laughing for the first time that day as Davey knocked him to the ground, the springy moss taking most of the impact. “Hey!”

Davey laughed too, wrapping his arms around Chainey’s shoulders, letting the stress of the day melt off of him. His wings were still damp, just as Chainey’s probably were, but they’d dry out by morning.

For now, though, Davey just wanted to relax and snuggle with his boyfriend.

“If anyone asks, we were attacked by rabid squirrels.”

Chainey snorted, his hands sliding over Davey’s waist. “Why? You planning on messing me up?”

“I meant the delay, you dork. Though that could be arranged. . .”

Chainey squeaked as Davey kissed him, bringing up a hand to drag through Chainey’s hair, over his stomach, under his shirt and over his collarbone and tickling him just under the ribs while Davey planted kisses all over his face. Chainey was laughing harder than ever now,  shaking silently under his boyfriend, and Davey grinned between kisses.

Yeah.

This was why they were traveling alone.

Davey managed to get a hand on Chainey’s back, just between where his wings sprouted from his shoulder blades, and worked his knuckles in at the seam. Chainey abruptly stopped giggling, managed to catch his breath a bit, then leaned forward into Davey with a groan.

“You like that, huh?” Davey murmured into Chainey’s ear, as if that wasn’t a sweet spot for practically every fairy, as if he hadn’t done it a thousand times before.

Chainey’s reply, if it could even be called that, was just an incoherant moan into Davey’s shoulder.

Davey smiled, leaning over to nip at the point of Chainey’s ear before settling in, ready to sleep. He was tired, and it was all he could do to keep his fingers moving, working the tension from Chainey’s shoulders until his boyfriend seemed ready to melt.

They drifted off like that too, arms around each other, and didn’t wake up until the little three-year-old girl peeked through the door the next morning.

Boy.

Was that ever an awkward conversation.


End file.
